Bittersweet Lunacy
by Kayna
Summary: Goten friends with a pyschotic child? Hmm... Please review!


If you get disgusted easily or don't like murders, you won't want to read this story. It mostly revolves around a psychotic child... I don't own DBZ, nor will I ever... Enjoy!  
  
-Kayna  
  
  
Darkness all around me. The sickly sweet lunacy of a brilliant star-studded sky stretching out above me and to my sides, casting a shadow over the dirty ground I sat upon. This darkness was my true companion, my lover... The blessed deliverer of insanity to my already twisted, morbid mind. The stars always spoke to me as they gradually traveled along the endless abyss of dark before fading off into the hellish fire of the sun. They were my guides and they would tell me everything I would ever need.  
  
You must think me insane now. It's all right, most people do... I'm a cast away. I'm not like them. I'm 'different' from what they say is the way to be. I am human, yes. The small, but strong hands of a youthful boy, yet the well-built form of a young man accompanied by crystal blue eyes and unkempt black hair. My brown pants and white shirt were dark in color due to the filth gathered upon them over all this time. My feet were bare and dirty; my shoes having broken apart too long ago to remember. Yes, I was human... But was I accepted? No, of course not... I was not 'right.'  
  
What is right? You have the rich man, covered in wealth as much as the poor is covered in dirt. Who spends his or her life day by day purchasing items and walking over the common excuse for a human. Am I stereotypical? Perhaps, but this is all that I've seen. No more, no less. It's a funny feeling, though... Being trashed by the rich, but I even have to endure being trashed by the poor as well.   
  
If people are so different from one another, how can anyone ever be able to declare what is right and what is wrong? There's a rule for everything and there's a way around every rule. So, what is right? The sky. The stars resting in their warm blanket of night... Whispering to me like a mother whispers to her child. The night is so loud... It must be why people find me a pure mental case from their perfect world.  
  
The undertone voices started when I was merely a toddler. I had a family then, I know that. Ask me anything about them and I'd never be able to tell you for they died too soon. They told me my family had to die. What a brilliant night it was then. The stars so luminous it made the night almost as bright as day, casting a soft glow upon the village I lived in. They were calling out so loud to me... Those lovely orbs of light. I had walked into my parents room with a tiny hatchet my father left on the table everyday he came home from work. Small enough for me to hold, but dangerous enough to kill. I crept into their room, quiet as a mouse. When I reached their bed, I drew back the hatchet and went to work on them. I cut either of them along the neck with the hatchet, digging the metal in as far as it would go. They made an attempt to gurgle out a scream as their blood ran over the white sheets of their beds, mixing together as one. The stars had promised me a gift for this and I received it right after... A blood-red moon.  
  
I had left the house after that. Some people knew what I had done, but kept it to themselves after the authorities had decided that it was another homicide. So I was set off on my own, wandering the forests for food and water. I wandered into the village quite often for the mere fact that I had made one friend. His name was Goten, a boy with black hair that was so untidy that it even stuck up. He usually wore a pair of orange pants along with a matching vest that went over a blue undershirt, all of which he tied down with a blue belt. He was the type that loved to constantly engage in battles. I suppose it was because most of his family happened to be fighters.  
  
He said he had something for me today... He said I'd really enjoy it. I wonder what he could have planned now. He usually brought the happy side out of me and made the day go along well. Until then, I'd watch the night fade and morning come. Then, I'd meet my dear, sweet Goten.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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